Stumbling forward, he grabbed her arm, and she shrieked as they crashed into the water together. Jake released Emily’s arm when the cool lake water swallowed them up. He bobbed up to the surface and pushed his hands through his wet hair and sighed. The cool water soothed his aching muscles. How had Emily known that this was just what he needed after spending a few hours hammering on the barn roof?
She appeared beside him and flipped her long hair out of her face before she splashed him. “That’s what you get for pulling me in with you,” she joked.
“Oh yeah?” He splashed her back, and she giggled and swam away from him. He loved how impulsive she was, keeping him guessing and pushing him out of his comfort zone.
“How many times have we swam in this lake?” She treaded water beside him.
“A million?” He splashed her.
She splashed him back. “That sounds about right.”
Soon they were in a splashing war, with water and their laughter raining through the air.
Emily reached over and grabbed his shoulder while gasping for air. “Truce. Okay?”
Her warm hand on his shoulder sent a shock wave of heat rushing over his skin.
He pretended to consider the request. “I don’t know. Youstarted it, but now you can’t take it, huh?” He rested his hands on her shoulders. “What if I dunked you? Maybe then we’ll be even, after you pushed me in the lake and then splashed me.”
“Please don’t.” Her words came out in a squeak.
He chuckled and then swam to the dock and pushed himself up out of the water. He stood and reached over. “Come on.”
She held up her arms, and he lifted her out of the water as if she were as light as a feather. She hugged her arms to her middle, and he tried not to stare at her. Water dripped from her long hair, and her clothes stuck against her skin. He couldn’t help but think she was gorgeous.
He cleared his throat and tossed her the T-shirt she’d left on the dock. She pulled it over her head and shoved her feet into her shoes.
“I guess we need towels,” he said as he put on his T-shirt. “Let’s go to my place.”
Chapter 7
Emily hugged her arms around her waist while droplets of water dripped onto Jake’s concrete driveway, forming puddles around her Birkenstocks.
Jake tapped in the code for his garage door, and the motor hummed while the door lifted. His plain tan T-shirt was damp and sticking to his shoulders and back, and as much as she tried to look away, her eyes defied her and studied how the taut muscles in his torso flexed as he moved. The magnificent sight was almost as intoxicating as the view of him with his shirt off. She’d been so mesmerized by him that she’d pushed him into the water to shake herself from her momentary stupor.
He sauntered into the garage. “I’ll get us some towels.”
Emily glanced around the garage, which contained shelves of tools and supplies, lawn equipment, and a bicycle.
When she spotted a shelf holding jugs containing an orange liquid, she rushed over to it. “Jake Hughes! How long have you been making cider?”
He brushed his hand over his sternum. “A while. Hasn’t worked out yet.”
“Can I try some?” she asked.
“Don’t bother. It’s not any good.” He started for the door. “I’ll be right back with a towel for you.” He disappeared inside the house.
Once the door clicked shut, she began to examine the jugs. According to the dates scrawled on the surface, he’d been working on cider for more than a year, and he’d never mentioned it to her once. Curious. She’d always assumed they told each other everything. She was both impressed by his effort and disappointed that he’d never shared it with her. Perhaps she didn’t know everything about him after all.
Emily tugged open the refrigerator door and found two more jugs of cider on the top shelf beside a few bottles of water. One of the jugs was three-quarters full. After locating a cup on a nearby workbench, she poured herself some and took a long drink. The tart goodness slipped down her throat, and she smiled before taking another long drink. Jake had brewed some delicious nonalcoholic cider! Why had he kept this to himself? Soon the cup was empty, and she refilled it before drinking more.
The back door opened, and Jake walked down the garage steps dressed in fresh athletic shorts and a blue T-shirt that complemented his gorgeous eyes and brawny torso.
“What are you doing?” he asked while holding out a large beach towel featuring multicolored surfboards in one hand and a shirt and shorts in the other.
She placed the cup on the workbench and wrapped the towel around herself. “I’m enjoying the homemade cider you hid in your fridge, and I’m also trying to figure out why you’ve kept it a secret.”
“Aren’t you supposed to ask permission before going through someone’s fridge?”
